Rust Seas Rampage - Epilogue
Workshop - Darkmount(#12000Rnt) - Polyhex White cement tile floors complete with floor drains mark this room as a maintenance space even before you see all the machine tools. Toolchests and workbenches are mounted on the walls, with the center of the room left open for access to the lifts and hoists. Air hoses for pneumatic tools hang in reels from the ceiling, easily accessable from any part of the room, and at several points along the rear wall there are connections for fuel, coolant and welding gas hoses. Contents: Carjack Abolition II Demo Kit Backbone Obvious exits: Out leads to Atrium - Darkmount. Airlift is ambulatory, but that's about all that can be said for the Reaver. Of course, the majority of the medical staff in the workshop are still terrified of the reaver, even with him trashed. Rumor is he went toe to toe with Torque and Dogfight at the same time, and gave as good as he got. His torso shows numerous stress fractures and shatters, his wings are scorched with plasma fire as though he took a bath in a flamethrower, and his combat visor sports an impressive crack that mars the readout. Even so, he has been going about his duties as though nothing were wrong, having stopped only long enough to spot weld the cracks shut so they'd stop dripping energon, and to put a sealant patch on his right upper shoulder where the blade-shaped shoulder guard was torn off. His scythe leans against one of the worktables, turned off at the moment as he examines the monitor feed on Soundwaves table. Rumble is right with Soundwave, as one might expect from the little tapecon. He watches Airlift for a long moment, then comments... "What happened t'you? You look like crap." If there is one thing scarier than some medics around here, it's one that's actually in a pleasant mood rather than bitter and sour. Because that usually means they're either up to something... or have gone completely out of their processors. And to this regard is how Carjack comes stomping into the medbay with vigor, ignoring the fact that he sends a couple of cleaning drones tumbling and spilling. "Hellooooooo medbay! Who needs to be put together or reduced to scrap? The doctor is in and ready to do some SCIENCE on some poor victi--" There's a pause. "--patients." Glancing up from where he was examining the data readout, Airlift looks towards Rumble. "...sometimes one simply has to feel the energon of his enemies upon his talons.." he explains cryptically. He blames the sweeps, they're the hunters, it's no surprise he should have developed certain..violent tendencies after his reconfiguration. "Torque and Dogfight are together actually capable, and since Blast Off was fleeing in terror from someone he called Wraith, it left me to deal with the both of them." He puts the datapad down and turns to walk over towards the main medical terminal. "Were it not for the considerable energon I'd already used clearing out the fortified fall back position, I am confident I could have finished the business. But considering medical personnel are so...rare..I decided to cease my assault." He looks up as someone walks in and announces that the 'Doctor is in'.. "Yes, I am.." he says as he eyes the newcomer, "and you are?" Of course, admittedly, to many he himself is the newcomer..but it's all a matter of perspective. "Whoever you are, you're making a mess and we just got this medbay back into functional order." Combat: Carjack runs a diagnostic check on Airlift Carjack glances to one side, then the other, then snorts. "That's what the gumbies are for," her retorts dismissively as he saunters over to the Reaver, looking up and down for a moment. And then giving his head a brief jerk forward to slide his work visor/HUD scanner into place over his face. He's about to make a reply, but it comes up short as all the information starts flashing across his view. ".. Well aren't we a piece of work? Looks like Sweep MarkII on the inside almost." He gives one of the lower arms a solid slap. "Like the alternate limb arrangement. Must be useful for work -and- mutilating the enemy." With that he turns around and starts punching a few commands into a parts fabricator. "Aw, there was a fight an' I missed it?" Rumble sighs. Carjack's arrival gets a slight smirk of interest from the cassette-con. He wants to see just how much friction Airlift can generate before Carjack flips out on him. Not exactly what he'd consider a fight, but it's...a confrontation, at least! Blast Off limps into the medbay. The Combaticon looks like he's lived up to his name, and then some. However, this time it's not fire burns... more like stab wounds and lightning scorches. It's possible he's still smoking a little from the two nasty holes that were stabbed into his torso. He does NOT look happy. Spotting Rumble still on vigil for Soundwave, he nods. He doesn't personally like Soundwave, but he can at least understand the loyalty to one's team- or creator. Or whatever Soundwave is to Rumble. Then he sees the two medics. He nods to Carjack, if noticed, but glares at Airlift. "What's that? I see you made it back here after leaving ME to clean up the mess you started..." He grumbles, then stalks to a medtable where he tries to get a gumby to repair him. He looks exhausted though- Wraith's energon-draining attacks have left him damaged- and tired. What comes out of his vocalizer is closer to a growl as he responds, "I am not a 'sweep mk II'..the term is Reaver.." he responds coolly..then flexes his head from side to side as though trying to work a kink out. Considering how many times he got punched by Torque, it's no surprise there's more than one bind in his rotators. For some reason, he lets out an amused chuckle then, flexing his wings back before shrugging. "It's convenient, yes. Being able to tear out your enemies optics while holding their arms in place is rather a workable configuration. Not that I was given the choice.." Looking up towards Blast Off, he smirks. "I'm sorry, was the one Autobot too much for you as I fought off Torque and Dogfight both? Of course, considering how badly Dogfight trashed you last time you fought him, I can understand your reluctance to re-engage him.." he adds with a glaring scowl. Then shrugs, "besides, I did not call for your assistance. Your decision to engage was your own, therefor I assumed you would disengage when you saw fit...presumably the commander of Aerospace should be a fighter capable of lasting far longer against damaged foes than a mere medic.." he says before he turns back to Carjack, "have you experience repairing Unicronian technology?" Rumble glances over to Blast Off as he enters the repair bay. He's sitting right over by Soundwave, although he doesn't particularly NEED to be or have cause to be. Soundwave can recuperate just fine without him there. And yet, there he is. Carjack doesn't even look over his shoulder. "Blast Off, if you're going to be making so many rivals, you really should -kill- a few of them first. As for you..." Carjack turns back to Airlift, activating his arm-mounted multi-tool. The usual cutting head retracts and is replaced by a four pronged grasping device. Which he promptly clamps onto a ruined armor panel. "Oh yes, Reaver. I've seen that in the files. You're suppose to be good with..." and yanks the panel off without any sort of sensory dulling before hand. "Pain tolerance." Blast Off 's optics narrow slightly at Airlift's jab. "Of course I am. I'm one of the best warriors in the Decepticon army, thus my designation as Combaticon and CO. But, ...well, that ONE Autobot was, unfortunately, a rather *good shot* ...or lucky one... yes, /lucky/ that day. When YOU fled the scene and I was faced with *three* Autofools... well..." He sniffs disdainfully, glancing away as if bored, "...If it had been *worth* my time, I /would/ have remained and destroyed them all. Easily." He looks back at Airlift and snarks, "...But it was NOT. Since we were accomplishing nothing of importance there besides letting you vent some *frustrations* on hapless field medics. What, couldn't find some civilians? Perhaps an ophanage or two? THAT would have REALLY tested your mettle, I'm sure." He sniffs again, then adds, "And Dogfight? Please. I trashed him once, I'll do it again. I was at least *trying* to let you get some practice in... you seem to /need/ it, after all." Carjack's comment gets a small huff and he looks away again. "The Autofools all just realize what a true THREAT I am to them... THAT is why I seem to be getting so many. It's my well-deserved reputation." He looks off proudly... somewhere. Surprisingly Airlift lets out a "UNICRON'S BEARD!" as the armor plate is yanked off instead of the expected reaction. "Stop that you blathering incompetent!" he exclaims as he puts one taloned claw over the spot where the armor plate was ripped off. "When we were under Unicron's direct control, yes, we were able to tolerate immense amounts of pain. However, I'm not a masochistic freak like some of our compatriots, and would rather a more professional manner.." he glares at Carjack as he turns and walks over towards a table. He's muttering something about Scrapper's absence, Arachnae's memory loss and the general state of things. Definitely audible is the phrase 'criminal mismanagement by criminals' in there somewhere as he sits up onto the table he leaned his staff against, and promptly plugs himself into the pain receptor dampening energon feed. "If you believe you are capable of restraint in your amusements, I will go off duty and allow you to take control of the medbay for now.." he says to Carjack in a slightly offended tone. He looks over towards Blast Off, "Oh please Blast Off, spare me. First of all you and I both know that the troops manning that trench emplacement weren't medics. Secondly, Dogfight and Torque were licking their wounds after I bugged out and paying no attention to you as they attempted to recover, I have video from my scouting equipment if you'd like evidence. Third, I'd hardly be talking about how badly a medic who fought you so close to falling needs practice, while spouting about your own prowess in the same vocalization. Might make you look bad." Rumble is now intently eavesdropping on the conversation, finding it very interesting that Airlift seems to be the type to dish pain out (example being what he did to Backbone the minute he returned to base), but he isn't the sort to tolerate it in return. Somewhat interesting, but not really something the little punk wants to dwell upon. He knows who WOULD find it interesting, however, and his name begins with a Buzz and ends with a Saw. "Oh, please. You work on Astrotrain when he's drunk off his afterburners, then come rant at me about at 'professional'." But other than that retort Carjack ignores most of the barbs as he pulls the removed panel off the device and tosses it into a bin. It can be smelted down and reforged later, considering how rare it is to come by some of the materials in Unicron reformated mechs. "And there isn't a thing I haven't gotten to repair around here, so don't worry about -that-." Storing away the large multi-tool, Carjack withdraws a smaller recalibrating device from one of his shoulder compartments and shoves it into the opening made by removing the armor. This one doesn't hurt, thankfully, but the feeling of it plugging into and readjusting misaligned components and relays is quite clearly felt." Airlift's comment about not being a "masochistic freak" gets an arched optic ridge from Blast Off... as far as he can tell most Con medics are into sadism, or masochism, or some other form of "ism". Though yes, some can dish it, but can't take it. Blast Off will need to remember that as well. But the rest gets another glare. He stands there, trying to think of some brilliant retort... but another wave of exhaustion seems to hit and he seems to slump just a little. Finally, he just waves a hand and looks away imperiously. "I also have better things to be doing than arguing with *you* of all mechs. Next time I'll just leave you to face three Autofools alone- though it will be a shame that then we'll be in need of a medic to replace you so soon after you had arrived." He then goes back to trying to get a gumby to fix him, though the somewhat frightened-looking gumby insists he's not capable of properly repairing the damage. Blast Off also glances again to Rumble. "And how is he?" He's not concerned, but... as CO he ought to know, right? Airlift smirks for some reason, seeming to be pleased with the situation at hand. Settling back fully on the medical table he shows no evident sign of discomfort about having his insides invaded by the repair device. He does lean up and watch with a certain professional interest though. "Is that the 2.6 redesign that Hook and Scrapper created?" he asks curiously of the device that Carjack is rooting around inside of him with. "I've not yet had reason to deploy one, it's a rather unique situation. I can see that the nanotendricular reassembly fibers are certainly as good as they'd boasted they would be.." he muses before looking over towards Soundwave's table. "Medically speaking he is recovering at approximately the rate I would have expected.." he remarks to supply a medical answer. "His actions in dealing with issuing vital orders were absolutely necessary, but were definitely against mechanics advice..I'm afraid that exerting himself has slowed the process somewhat. I'm confident in his recovery though.." "Yeah, me too," Rumble interjects after Airlift explains Soundwave's condition and state of recovery. "He's better than he was. 'S just gonna take a while." Blast Off nods to Rumble. Some might give Rumble a pep talk here, or talk to him about how Soundwave has surely seen worse and survived, so don't worry.... but those would indeed be other mechs. Blast Off's not the most empathetic, socially-adjusted, or warm individual, so to say those things don't occur to him anyway. What does occur to him is ...actions and results. Soundwave was damaged by arrogant organics DARING to challenge the superior Cybertronian race. "We will destroy this Silas fool, and regain control of Trypticon. The organics will regret they day they took this course of action." Then Blast Off looks over at Airlift. "For someone who doesn't appear to like Scrapper, you certainly talk about him a lot. And he's not even around right now." Then the Combaticon goes back to trying to find a gumby who CAN repair him, because he doesn't want to ask Airlift for that favor. If you think normal people are picking about the medic's they allow to work on them, just imagine how it is for one medic to get worked on by another. It's usually evenly split between critism and appreciation, depending. And most of the people who have been under Carjack's laser scalpel will atest to while his mannerisms can be... eccentric and sometimes downright sinister, he's definately good at what he does. "Hold still a moment..." Carjack shifts the device to the side without removing it to reach in with a grabber with his other hand to pull out a piece of impacted shrapnel. "Huh. Don't see inward fragmental damage from -punching- most of the time." Tosses it over his shoulder and makes a few adjustments to his tool. "It is, it is! Abiet I've made a few minor adjustments to be compatable with my own utilities." He tapped the scan visor on the side with a finger. Combat: Carjack expertly repairs Airlift's injuries. Combat: Carjack is able to repair some of Airlift's internal systems damage. Glancing over towards Blast Off, Airlift can't help but smirk. "Come now Blast Off, you of all mechs should realize that liking and respecting are two very different things. After all, no mech in their right minds likes Scrapper. I'm not even sure most of the time if Scrapper likes Scrapper. But I do respect his abilities. He's even a fairly able administrator..I rather guessed I would return to find him still in charge of the division in fact, and have to work to have him placed as my executive officer again.." he smiles at that. His attention goes back to what Carjack is doing and he says, "Ahh..one moment," before reaching in with his two right hands and helpfully pulling a hinged armor piece up and out of the way, part of what forms the cockpit for his spaceship mode. "Most certainly, we must all take the tools we find and customize them to our own needs. My scythe is an excellent example..I discovered it on a remote world while on my scouting mission. It is cybertronian in origin, but I have no idea how it came to be there. It was very old and in need of repair, so I claimed it for my own and made..adjustments." "Appreciated," Carjack replies to helping hands (ha ha) letting him a big farther inside to work. Fortunately most of his tools are extendable for reaching inside constricting internal spaces. "I couldn't tell you how many things I've made use off of salvaging." Pause. And then that smirk that shows his sharp, needle-like teeth returns. "Or ripped off the opposition. Ah, the old days. Autobots were suckers for seeing another emergency vehicle altmode, they never expected it to be a Decepticon until it was too late and my armor shredder was buried in their chassis already," he remenises as he works "Aaaahh, I see whatcha did there!" Rumble pipes up to Carjack with a sudden grin. "They don't hafta be the old days, you can still do that, right??" Blast Off does have to give Airlift some credit for there at least being a grain of truth in what he says. "I suppose... I am stuck with my teammates, after all. Brawl may be an idiot, but when it comes to doing the specific skills Onslaught needs him to do... well, there are none better. And so on for several other individuals I know." Slag, Blast Off has even gained a grudging respect for certain Autobots... he may not LIKE them but some have earned some respect. Blast Off turns to go pester yet another gumby when a wave of fatigue hits and he leans against the medtable he was standing near. He holds a hand on the side, propping himself and resting, then starts quietly rummaging through a nearby drawer to make it look like he really means to just be standing there, yeah. Grunting, Airlift looks down as he feels vital connections being stitched back together. After a short time he says, "The majority of the rest is armor replacement and repair..with the exception of the back of my wings, I can see to this myself Carjack. I believe though that Blast Off should be seen to. Despite my jocular attitude earlier, the foe he faced appeared to have been formidable and..strange..I think it might be best to see to it he is brought back up to functional status as soon as possible." he offers helpfully. It almost sounded complimentary even. Indeed, he's been alone and effecting repairs on himself for quite a long time now, so he's rather used to it. Carjack hadn't paid that much attention to the Combaticon while he was working other than a comment here and there, so this is the first time he really bothers to look. ".. Yeash, they DID run you for a reaper didn't they?" Turns back to Airlift for a moment. "There's a recycling bin specifically for Unicornian parts. Throw anything else you remove in there, those alloys are hard to come by after all." And with that, he tromps over to Blast Off. "Well at least I know you're usually in here because you're actually DOING SOMETHING rather than getting into drunk bar fights or something." "Not that there's anything *wrong* with drunken bar fights, it's a perfectly good way to settle a dispute between fellas," Rumble interjects. Blast Off looks miserably at Carjack, but is too tired to make a retort... or even huff. He just leans against the table and allows the medic to observe his less-than-stellar condition. "Well..." he says quietly, "Of course. I have better things to do than engage in drunken bar fights. I do not like wasting my time and value proficiency above all things. Again..." He says sardonically, "...that's what we have Brawl for." Then a glance at Rumble after his comment. "...Or Rumble." Airlift is laying on one of the medtables, having just had his internals repaired by Carjack, and quietly reassembling his own armor with those four hands of his in a strangely effecient manner. Most of the bodies on the tables don't simply repair their own damage..and Backbone looks slightly nauseous as Airlift tears one of his own armor panels off and tosses it to the recycling bin for Unicronian parts. Nevermind how mechanic beings get nauseous. "I'm aware of the location of the bin Carjack, I am after all medical staff..and have been for a very, very long time.." he moves to sit up and flexes. "I simply will need a bit of assistance with my wings and I'm ready to serve. Alas..I can't exactly scratch my own back, so to speak." "Damn skippy," Rumble says to Blast Off's observation with a proud grin. "That's whatcha have ME for!" Buzzsaw returns to IC reality. Buzzsaw has arrived. Dustoff has left. Dustoff heads back to OOC-Land. Buzzsaw has been out and about running his new engines into the ground to help get rid of that 'baby-whine' they tend to have before hitting a proper break-in life... and to perhaps unload some munitions on hapless targets to ensure everything is fully operational. It is a must, after all, considering the run-ins with walls and a hijacked Scorponok's fist. Alighting on a medbay slab, he takes a few moments to power down and get his post-flight checks out of the way while optics scan around. "Why are we suddenly so crowded in here?" Carjack pats Blast Off on a shoulder. "Fortunately for you, I've haqd to fix you enough times I could do it in a rest cycle... But I won't, because that would be sloppy and 'unprofessional'." Chitchat side, he gets to work, frowning a bit at all the energy shortage strained systems. "Oh look, you were fighting that damn syphon-bot again." Blast Off just gives Rumble a long, long look... he might be just be a bit flabbergasted, even. But he simply stares, then shakes his head slightly and says, "Yes, indeed. It's good to be... proud of one's.... skills, after all." .....and leaves it at that. Buzzsaw gets a glance as he flies in. "Airlift decided to "vent some frustration on some Autofool field medics and assorted other.. individuals, and I am the one who needed to go out there and prevent him from getting himself killed." A slight... stretch of the truth, but... close enough, right? He sighs at Carjack, for once too tired to bristle at the shoulder pat. He seems to grimace under the faceplate. "Yes. The so-called "Necrobot". He's ...strange and... bizarre... and gets far too up close and.... slag it, do I need to up that bounty on his head in order to make someone finally take it?" Wraith is the one Autobot who seems to be able to get through most of Blast Off's defenses, and he doesn't like that one bit. Looking up to see Buzzsaw drifting in, Airlift hands a welding laser over to Backbone. It's a nervy thing to do, considering he did such unspeakable, horrendous things to the medic when he returned. Still, after a few glances at the potentially weaponizable welding laser, Backbone gets to work patching the armor of Airlift's wings. He then looks over at Blast Off and growls slightly, "I did mention that my scouting equipment includes recording devices, did I not Blast Off?" he asks in an annoyed tone. "In point of fact, yes, I blitzed one of the trench lines. I'm sure you know that sometimes one must feel the armor rending beneath ones talons, Buzzsaw." Or maybe it's just a unicronian thing. Scourge and the sweeps understood certainly. "Torque, Dogfight and Wraith responded to the distress call they managed to send out. Blast Off took it upon himself to intervene for some reason. I unfortunately was busy with Torque and Dogfight, and could not assist with Wraith as well.." Buzzsaw nods slowly. "I know the need to do such things well, but I do not crash wildly or recklessly into the fray." He snorts softly. "You will be pleased to know the engines are almost through their break-in hours and should be fully operable shortly. I am pleased." "I'm pleased, too, cause those things whine real funny when you're breakin' them in," Rumble suddenly opines. Blast Off huffs and waves a dismissive hand at Airlift. "I did not need your assistance. I would have destroyed that Autofool eventually. I just.... chose not to. I have military campaigns to run- ones that do not involve massacring field medics." He glances to Buzzsaw. "He showed no such temperance."